


i'm like this all because of you now

by Zodiac_Attack



Category: DRAMAtical Murder
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-03
Updated: 2014-07-26
Packaged: 2018-01-21 20:00:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1562255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zodiac_Attack/pseuds/Zodiac_Attack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The world is dark.<br/>Dark, cold, and alone.<br/>(“this world is not as bad as you think it is.”)</p>
<p>It would have been, but he changed it.  He changed everything.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A series of drabbles based on Noiz, my abstract view in to his mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. in the beginning

It’s dark down here, in this world of lies, locked away from everyone else (being prodded at by a stick). Trapped. Isolated. Cut away from the world, severed from personal connection. 

Alone.  
So Alone.  
Alone in the darkness.  
Lying down.  
Crying. 

Why do they have so much hatred in their voices? In their eyes?  
(It means nothing anyway, to someone who never greeted pain).  
A broken body (with an even more broken heart) shoved into an abyss, left to die.

Trapped.  
Isolated.  
Alone.  
So very alone.

Life in shackles, in a cage, damaged and cut away from everything sweet in the world, learning the world is dark.

The world is dark.  
The world is one of hate, pain, and agony.  
Who would want to be a part of it anyway? Someone who cannot feel is only a pariah to others, never meant to fit in, never meant to exist. 

Trapped.  
Isolated.  
So very and utterly alone.

The world is dark (so dark) and cold (so cold) when forced to stand alone.  
It doesn’t matter anyway.  
Curl into the chains (the only thing left to feel).  
Embrace the isolation (the only thing ever known).  
Stare at the flowing blood (a reminder it can’t be felt).  
Don’t talk to others (they only come when they want something).

They aren’t important.  
They push away people who are different, people they don’t understand.  
There is no understanding for someone trapped in a world of darkness.  
(And there is no understanding of those free in the world of light)

Trapped.  
Isolated.  
So very, completely, utterly alone.

Pain is unknown, but something exists within the mind (in the heart).  
Something that burns with a fury (hate so much hate) and sorrow (why? why the isolation? what was done wrong? I don’t understand).  
It hurts being alone (but the bitter pill is swallowed again and again.

\--------------------------------------

(Stop Crying. Stand Up. Forget it. Don’t feel, it hurts. Swallow it. Abandon it. Leave it to die. It’s not needed. Walk away. Don’t look back. Never look back.)

Trapped.  
(It’s all mental now)  
Fleeing, escaping, living (but not really).

Isolated.  
Stay away from others, don’t rely on them.

Alone.  
Still so very alone.

Sit in a back alleyway, hear the heavy rain (what does it feel like?). Tongue out: Thick. Metallic. A hint of dirt and something sweet. Blood and Rain. Fingers wipe over lips. Red. It flows.  
Indifference.  
It doesn’t matter.  
Nothing matters.  
Especially what can’t be felt.

\--------------------------------------

In the game, it’s mental and gives a feeling of bliss.  
(It’s not real, but it’s so close, so close - the only thing that can be experienced so it will have to do)

Fighting, gaining experience, abilities growing, time is crawling. And yet soon: unstoppable. Never conquered. Victory… is almost too simple now (after all what is there to lose? Nothing, so any risk can be taken). But now, new opponents must be found.

(He won?)

( _How_?) 

Obsessed. (How did he win?)  
Pursue it, listen in, find out.  
It _must_ be found out.

A rematch must occur, so follow him.  
(Stay distant though, separation must remain).  
Don’t rely on people, use them, like everyone else does (like countless people have tried to do to me).

Trapped.  
Locked in place by chains (why is he rattling them?)  
Isolated.  
Cut from personal connection (he won’t leave me be).  
Alone.  
So very, very alone.  
Rejection at every grasp.  
Pushed away by everyone.  
(He won’t let go of my hand).

\--------------------------------------

What is he doing?  
(The darkness of the world fades when he’s around.)  
(I don’t understand.)

People want things.  
They suck up and do nice things to get what they want.  
(He says he wants nothing.)  
(And shoves me out of the way.)

The world is dark.  
Dark, cold, and alone.  
(“this world is not as bad as you think it is.”)

His hold is gentle, caressing.  
Can’t feel it, but it’s the thought that counts.  
(I don’t understand. I don’t understand.)

Caution  
(I don’t understand)  
Remain in isolation, a normality.  
It’s okay to be alone.  
(That’s what I always thought.)  
People are cruel; alone is the only way to live.  
(“I’ll show you.”)

Shattering,  
Cracking.  
Snapping.

The darkness vanishes, the quite isolation blasted away by a symphony of lights, of sounds, of feeling.  
The chains fall away (he saved me).  
Warmth crawls in (slowly, slowly - it will take time to know the sensation).

Tingling.  
Steady, stable breathing.  
(Don’t show it, don’t show it.)

A slap, amazement.  
(He pulled me out of the dark, blew sense into my skin.)

(Save him.)  
(Save him.)  
Return the favor.  
(No. Care. Feel. Sympathize. Protect.)

(Protect)  
I understand now.

(Love)  
(Love him)

I understand what it means to feel pain.  
(Save him.)  
(Protect him.)

Love him.

I understand.


	2. Chapter 2

_“this world is not as bad as you think it is.”_

I understand.

He pleads to leave him, sounding so afraid of whatever’s inside his head coming out, of scrap taking over his mind. He sounds so afraid of loosing himself and hurting others.

No.  
No no.  
Nononono.

This will not happen. Not while I still live, I will not allow him to be alone (a feeling known oh to well) and I will not allow him to be hurt (or trapped by his own mind).

Help him. 

Help him,  
be there for him,  
cherish him.

“I don’t know if you’re going out of control or whatever, but whatever happens, I’ll do something about it. I’ll think of a solution.  
So,  
let’s go  
together.  
Okay?”

So much is different now (each step send shockwaves through every inch of flesh, a shock to the mind), the experience is almost unreal as the ground, his body, everything in this slow walk to escape this crumbling hell.

(Each step sends a sense - a sense not worse than a burn or a bite to the tongue)(but still teeth grit and lips form a small smile, it hurts a bit  
but it is amazing,  
the pure sensation of feeling).

“...You know  
I think I know what you mean now.  
The thing about wanting to help somebody who’s in pain.  
If you know pain,  
you’ll know how it feels.”

Looking at him, his condition, it hurts, something unexpected and... heartbreaking  
(it will take time to know this feeling, this burning of the chest).  
(But his smile, although pained, is still so beautiful).

Walking, stepping, and glancing to him (he holds a hand to his side)(it must hurt terribly)(a condition I did not improve).

_I will not allow him to be hurt further._

The room again trembles and shakes, collapsing, everything is falling apart, the sirens blare. 

He stagers, leaning into the hold, travel being a beat too slow, a glance around the broken room spells out disaster.

Protect. 

Protect him.

Movement is instantaneous, fluid, not even a thought of caution appears, only the choice to save him.  
 _It really wasn’t a choice._

I understand now.  
The final fleeting thought before a pain so horrid ravishes all expanses of the body, bones in brutal, quick snaps add to the unrivaled agony, cuts lash out, dance upon the skin drawing fragmented droplets of red blood.

(so that’s what being broken feels like…)

Memories flash for just a moment; crying, screaming children, horse voices trying and quite unable to convey the utter pain they are in. A lone figure, sporting scuffed knees and knuckles, scratched arms and a dash of blood on his face… 

He doesn’t hear them, he can’t possibly understand.

(Heartless. Monster. Inhuman. Demon.)

“Halt! Bitte! Nein! Du tust mir weh!”

“Verletze Sie?”

This child stands alone, isolated from the understanding of a most basic human trait.  
No fear.  
No sympathy.

But no more.  
The child is no longer a child. 

_And I am no longer alone._

Everything… makes so much more sense.

“...Noiz!?  
Noiz, hey! Are you okay!?”

“...Ow… You’re- hurt-”

“Never mind me, what about you!?”

A glance up and over, wide eyes stare back, watery with worry on a face so beautiful.  
So beautiful.

“Haha… Honestly, I can’t really tell where the pain is.”

The pain is nothing (it is really pure agony) but compared to the reward of seeing him safer, it is nothing (he’s still hurt and it hurts to see him in pain but it could have been worse, it could have been so much worse).

“Hey… Are you okay? Don’t you even move…”

“Now… I think something just broke.”

It hurts. It really hurts.  
So this is excruciating pain.  
Interesting… and so _painful_ l, for lack of a better word.

“Ouch…”

(But still, elation can not help but be present)

“Don’t try to move! Shit, we have to get out of here somehow…!”

He looks shocked, a mimic of internal emotion, after all something was just done for the first time.

_Sympathize._

The knowledge of pain, the desire to protect someone who is important… the desire to care and connect to someone else.

I understand.

“...Go on alone.”

Protect him.

“Fuck no, idiot!”

It should have been expected, he won’t leave. So many times, he reached out, into the darkness, into the void, caring, touching, trying to help. There is no way he would stop, he has too much heart for others.

“Haha.. You even said it yourself earlier… Besides I really can’t move…”

A small frown (it counters the lips pulled into a pained, sick smile) and determined eyes (countering those fighting to stay open).

“This may hurt a little, but put up with it.”

“!? What… Hey!”

Too much heart, it can be dully felt as his arms wrap, pulling the broken and bloody mess of a body close.

“What are you doing, put me down!”

Weighing him down, he’s hurt, why is doing this?  
...  
Is this what it means to care for another?  
Is this what it means to connect to another?  
Is this what it means to feel for another?

“No.  
Let’s go! Hold on!”

A grunt and thin arms tighten (it hurts, moving, oh it hurts) and he’s stronger than he looks  
(but that was evident, he could kick a man and send him flying)  
(or shove someone out of the way to protect them from harm)  
(And isn’t that what being strong really means?)  
(and now he’s saving me again when lesser men would save themselves only).

Lesser men… are they soulless? Do they not understand this idea of selflessness, this idea of wanting to care for and protect someone else, placing others needs before their own?

It is hard to understand (this is known more than anything else), it is hard to find compassion when there is a lack of understanding (but it’s more than that). (There is also a desire to help someone important)(someone who is loved dearly).

It’s not like they can’t understand, these who only look out for themselves, but don’t they have something in their sight that keeps them going?

…  
 _What did I have that kept me going?_  
Spite? (Living just to spite those who tore me from the world and locked the door)  
Greed? To want more than anything to experience pain and sensation

…  
Someone once said that people fear death because they fear the unknown, they fear the emptiness of death.  
Laughter.  
So much laughter.  
Death can not be feared when it holds the same fate as life.

But now...

_“Heh.”_

“What? Does it hurt somewhere? Just wait a while longer…”

everything has changed.

_“That’s not it… Haha!”_

“...Why are you laughing…!?”

Death… is still not feared…  
but maybe life is now worth living  
if it can be spent with someone else...

_“Just look at the situation we’re in.”_

“I’m on the brink of death here!”

Step step step!  
He runs (his body is straining)(thoughts flicker in and out, conscience flicks on and off)

…  
Remembering.

Scratches on the door. Hidden floor boards (sharp things, pencils and paper). Screaming (until not a sound could be made). Soar throats and sleepless nights. Staining the sink red (just an experiment to see if anything changed)(it wasn’t cleaned for a month). Looking out between bars.

Blink.  
Stay Awake.

_“Sorry… thanks.”_

Living on the streets (people said it was hard). Laughter. It was easy, living anywhere but ‘home’ was easy. A plane ticket. New wardrobe. Finding a place to stay.  
(Coming down from the upper class - could have stayed, if it was wanted - was easy) (It felt more like bring prisoner in an insane asylum above all else)

Bruises, hits, and cuts that made people flinch by appearance alone. (Agony)  
(What did they feel like?)  
(What did they feel like?)

Fighting.  
Fighting on a field that allowed feeling.  
Winning. Always winning.  
But it didn’t mean anything.

It never meant anything.

A loud rumbling, shattering, screaming, collapsing.  
He runs fast, slowing though, slows, stumbling, falling.  
He must be in so much pain.  
But you both were safe.

He saved you.

“Ha, haa, haa, ha……”

This is what it means to love someone, isn’t it?

**Author's Note:**

> This part was first written before I watched Noiz's re:connect route (so I give myself some props on nailing his past), but it has been slightly edited after viewing it. Chapters will update irregularly, as in when I have the time and motivation to write them. Thank you for reading, and I'd love to hear your thoughts.


End file.
